Stay Safe
by jackptollers
Summary: Draco and Hermione tell us the true story of what happened in the year and a half before they were reunited at Malfoy Manor. And believe me, it is a story worth telling. A dramione love story.
1. Malfoy Manor

Hope you like it!

-Jack

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**Prologue- Malfoy Manor**

**(Draco's POV)**

"We've got Potter!" echoed a grisly yet triumphant voice from the front gate, "We've captured Harry Potter!"

The voice rang through the whole manor, effectively filling me with dread, like ice running through my veins.

I heard them struggle up the stone steps and shuffle into the main corridor. My mother's voice rang out authoritatively, "Follow me. My son, Draco, is home for his Easter holidays. If that is Harry Potter, he will know."

They entered the ornate drawing room in which I and the other Death Eaters were occupying. I realized that I had entirely stopped breathing, so I took a short, shaky breath through my nose.

"Draco, come here," ordered my mother, Narcissa Malfoy.

I slowly rose from my chair, trying to avoid looking at the new arrivals for as long as I possibly could. I was terrified of who I might see standing before me as my prisoner. I could no longer ignore the commands to judge if it was truly Harry Potter standing before them. I looked at the prisoners for the first time. The prisoner to which they were referring bore a slight resemblance to the Harry Potter I had seen just a year ago, but I didn't take time to think about him.

I scanned the group of captives for the one who I hoped above all else was not there. I felt the blood drain from my face. She was there. That meant it really was Potter. Weasley, of course, was also there. My gaze fell on her again. Hermione's frightened expression turned to a look of surprise—and then to confusion—when she saw the look of fear on my face. All I could think was No. No! This was not happening. Not now. Not here. Not her.

I moved my eyes from Hermione's face back to Potter's, but I didn't even need to look too closely. I already knew that if Hermione were here, Potter would be with her. And because she was with him, I had no intention of giving Potter up to the Death Eaters. If I could buy him some time, maybe he could help her escape.

With a wicked excitement in his voice, my father, Lucius, urged me to make sure I was positive it was Potter before he summoned the Dark Lord. He walked right up in front of Potter, and I wanted to hex him for standing so near to Hermione. He motioned me forward, so I came up beside him, making sure to angle my body so that I was between her and Lucius.

I leaned down and feigned taking a closer look at Potter. If I had not already known it was him, it would have actually been hard to tell. I lied through my teeth and said that I didn't know if it was him or not. I prayed that none of the legilimens in the room picked up the undertone of my thoughts. Then I lost the thread of conversation as I focused on her out of the corner of my eye. Her gaze fell on me again, and I saw nothing but a lifetime of loathing in her eyes.

"What about the Mudblood, then?" rasped the voice of Greyback. All eyes fell on Hermione. When she was brought to attention, Narcissa immediately recognized her from an encounter in Diagon Alley and from the Daily Prophet. My heart dropped through my stomach.

"Look, Draco, isn't it the Granger girl?" my mother insisted. I couldn't think, I couldn't speak, and I had no idea what to say or how to protect the muggle-born witch. There was no way I could deny it was Hermione when my mother clearly recognized her. "I... maybe... yeah," I finally muttered, ashamed that I was so weak.

Lucius then excitedly inferred that the redhead was Weasley, "It's them, Potter's friends—Draco, look at him."

But I had already turned my back and was now facing the marble fireplace on the other side of the room. "Yeah. It could be."

Suddenly the door flew open, and my mother's sister strode in, her black Death Eater robes whipping behind her. Bellatrix marched around the group of prisoners, and then she stopped saying, "But surely this is the Mudblood girl? This is Granger?"

Lucius confirmed this, and informed his sister-in-law that they had caught Potter and his friends. My father and my aunt both wanted to be the one to summon the Dark Lord, and fought over who would be the one to do it. I tuned out their quarrel, my only thought of how to save the muggle-born witch tied to her friends.

I was called out of my revelry when Bellatrix cried out, "STOP."

A pale fury rolled over her expression like storm clouds over the sea. Her face contorted with madness. She was trying to find out the origin of the sword, which I realized was the cause of her outburst.

Bellatrix ordered me to remove from the drawing room the men she had rendered unconscious in her fit of fury. I rearranged my panicked expression to display a mask of indifference. Then I executed my task carefully and thoroughly, trying to make my mind unfreeze and think of a way to get her out of here.

I returned to the drawing room and stood next to my mother by the fireplace. Bellatrix was ordering Greyback to take Potter and the rest of the captives to the cells in the dungeons. As an afterthought, she told him to leave the "Mudblood". Fear gripped me as it never had before. I could feel myself trembling. I prayed that my aunt would accept Weasley's offer to take him instead. Meanwhile I wished I could offer to do the same. My own cowardice repulsed me.

They cut her free from the bindings that tied her to the other prisoners. Bellatrix dragged her to the center of the room by her long brown hair. I longed to wring my aunt's neck for laying a finger on her. Greyback dragged Harry and the others from the room.

"Tell me where you got the sword," Bellatrix demanded.

Her bottom lip trembled, but no sound escaped.

"_Crucio_," whispered Bellatrix.

Her responding scream shattered my soul and pierced my heart. I screamed out her name in my head. Bellatrix cursed her repeatedly, asking her about the sword. Hermione writhed in pain on the floor, sobbing that she did not know anything about it. The longer Hermione held out, the madder Bellatrix seemed to become. I knew that if I tried to help her, I would be outnumbered before I could even reach her side. It took all of my strength to stop myself from throwing my body on top of hers to shield her from the pain my aunt inflicted. All I could do was stand there and watch in mute horror. Tears rolled unchecked down my cheeks, but no one even noticed, as they were too intent on watching Hermione be tortured.

The strength of Bellatrix's curses increased until finally she unleashed a curse I realized was meant to finish Hermione off. My mind rejected the pain of what it would be to lose her; it was too much to deal with. Every fiber of my being unfroze, and the need to protect her surpassed all sense of logic or reason. My heart felt like it exploded with love and protection for Hermione. I leapt in front of Hermione, just as a beam of light exploded out of Bellatrix's wand. There was a great surge of power, and I felt the house jolt beneath my feet, throwing me to the floor. I reached out blindly and felt Hermione by my side. I found her hand and put it in my own as my consciousness slowly slipped into darkness.

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Thanks for reading! **Please review to let me know if I should continue this story.**

-Jack

Next chapter: Flashback


	2. Only the Beginning

_Flashback_

Only the Beginning

**(Draco's POV)**

It was late September, and being back in school had finally sunk in with all the sixth-years. The course load was beginning to pick up, and it felt like the year was now fully underway. Now that the entire Wizarding World was on the brink of war, everyone's tensions were running high—but especially mine. Between the golden trio, homework, classes, prefect duties, my father, and Voldemort, I felt like I was constantly treading water. It didn't take much to set me off these days—which was exactly what it seemed Potter and his friends were trying to do.

The sixth-year double-potions class had just finished reviewing the fundamentals. We were finally starting to brew higher-level potions, such as the wit-sharpening potion that had been assigned for today. The chilly dungeons were full of frantic students trying to add the right ingredients and follow the challenging instructions. My wandering thoughts caused me to forget that I had already added the ground scarab beetles. My potion, which had taken a sickly green color instead of ruby, exploded out of my cauldron with a loud boom. It covered me from head to toe with green goop. The entire class looked around for the cause of commotion, their wandering eyes falling on me.

"I don't know what it is that makes you so stupid, but it really works," Potter sneered, and the class snickered.

"Malfoy's not stupid," Granger told her green-eyed friend, as if he were the one being dumb. Everyone, including myself, turned to stare at her. "He's just possessed by a retarded ghost," she finished matter-of-factly. The Gryffindors burst into laughter, and I shot her the most menacing glare I could manage while feeling ridiculous, as I was still covered in my ruined potion.

"Filthy Mudblood," I muttered darkly.

"What was that?" she asked, her tone falsely sweet. I acted like I hadn't heard her.

I quickly pulled out my wand to _scourgify_ the potion off myself, syphoning away most of the offending concoction. My thoughts were in a mental rampage. I let out a flow half-formed insults under my breath. Granger was the worst of them all. Yes, even worse than Potter. Always an arrogant know-it-all, she was the only one who could actually come close to matching my superb wit and outstanding cleverness. She had won round one, but she had no idea what was coming for her. She should have learned by now: _Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus._

**(Hermione's POV)**

My triumph at besting Malfoy the day before had long since worn off. Maybe it was because today was one of _those_ days again. The day that starts fifteen minutes late, forcing me to skip breakfast, but still manage to be late for class. The day that my least favorite professor calls on me, only because my hand _isn't_ raised. The day when I forget my most important assignment, but because everything has been going wrong since the moment I woke up, I am just glad it wasn't my pants. It was the typical, all-out, completely miserable, no-good-can-come-of-if, bad day.

"Tell McGonagall I'll be late, I need to go change clothes," I told my friends. I stood at the base of the Grand Staircase, completely covered in Neville's lunch.

"Hurry up then," called Harry over his shoulder as he turned to go to class. Neville was still pink in the face and mumbling half-formed apologies to his shoes.

I ran up to the girls' dormitory and peeled off my ruined uniform, tripping as I simultaneously tried to _scourgify_ my hair. Transfiguration was my second to last class of the day, and I was sorely tempted to skip it. But I decided against ditching, a decision which I would highly regret later on. I pulled on the first thing my fingers touched and then ran to class.

I arrived just as McGonagall began to explain the properties of an advanced curse that could temporarily transform a wizard into their animagus animal. It was the same curse that the imposter Moody had used back in our fourth year to turn Malfoy into a ferret. I smirked when I saw Malfoy, who was sitting as far from the front as possible, wearing a sour expression. Evidently, he too remembered the incident that had forever earned him the nickname 'Draco Malferret'.

I moved from the back of the room to my seat at the front. As I passed Malfoy, I heard him mutter something incoherently nasty under his breath. He apparently had not yet gotten over yesterday's little squabble. Choosing to ignore him, I took my seat between Harry and Ron. They were both wearing identical expressions of glee at Malfoy's obvious discomfort. They turned to speak to me, but stopped short, their mouths falling open.

"What?" I inquired self-consciously. Just when Harry opened his mouth to answer, Malfoy gave a derisive snort that was loud enough to hear from across the room.

"Your hair is looking even _bushier_ than usual Granger," drawled Malfoy, and the Slytherins chortled. I felt myself blush in embarrassment, though I did not know for what.

"I don't know who did this," said McGonagall, "but in the meantime would Mr. Weasley please escort Miss Granger to the hospital wing."

Ron grabbed my arm and practically pulled me from the room. I still had no idea what had happened, and Ron refused to tell me.

"Ronald Weasley would you please tell me what is going on!" I demanded, but it sounded more like I was begging than giving an order.

"Fine Hermione. But you're going to freak out and kill Malfoy, and then I won't be able to do it myself," Ron said impatiently.

"Why am I going to kill Malfoy? And ever tell a girl not to freak out, Ron Weasley. Have you learned nothing in the last six years?" I screeched, my hysteria increasing with each word I spoke.

I knew that Harry would have sighed and tried to keep the peace. This was Ron, however, whose temper could have monuments built to it.

"Don't take it out on me Hermione, I wasn't the one who turned your hair into a shrub!" he snarled.

"My hair into a what?!" I shrieked. I reached up to touch my head, but it was not hair that I felt there. I let out another tiny scream.

I sprinted to the Hospital Wing, looking for anything reflective on the way. Ron followed behind, doing his best to keep up. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something shiny and reflective. Ron almost barreled into me as I came to a sudden halt. I looked into the small mirror that had caught my attention, and let out yet another high-pitched shriek. I wasn't proud of screaming like a girl, but I think anyone would have screamed if they had looked into the mirror and seen what I did. My brown curls were gone, and in their place had grown twig-like branches with sprouts of little green leaves. Horror was evident in my expression.

How had I not noticed? Surely I should have felt the weight change. And to think, the entire class had seen me with a bush on my head. Malfoy was going to pay for this. I realized that it was a curse that he had muttered when I walked by him.

I was not going to let anyone else see me like this. I took off running all the way to the hospital wing. When I entered, I found Madam Pomfrey in her office. To my utter mortification, I realized that she was desperately trying not to laugh. Malfoy was as good as dead.

"Miss Granger, what seems to be the trouble?" she inquired as she struggled to maintain her composure. My expression must have convinced her I was in no mood for nonsense or joking.

"Alright then," she began again awkwardly, "are you aware of which spell was used?" I was not. I had not seen or heard the spell Malfoy had shot at my back, (the coward).

I was forced to sit on one of the white hospital beds and wait for Madam Pomfrey to find the counter-curse for an unknown spell. My patience had already been stretched so thin it was practically non-existent. Just as was ready to explode from frustration (not for the first time), Madam Pomfrey looked up from her books of healing.

"I've found something that may work," she exclaimed, grabbing her wand. I held my breath as she muttered the spell. I let out an exasperated grunt of frustration when I felt no difference from before. But Madam Pomfrey indicated that I should look in the small mirror she had just conjured. My hair was back to normal! Well not exactly back to normal, because it actually looked sleeker and shinier than before.

"Thank you!" I told her, and she nodded. After arguing that there was no legitimate reason why I should have to stay the night in the hospital wing, I raced back to Gryffindor Tower. Classes were long since finished for the day. I did something I would not ordinarily do, and decided to leave my homework for later. Right now, it was the time to plot revenge.

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**Should I continue?**

Also, suggestions are appreciated!The next chapter is: Too Far

-Jack


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